Puzzles of Silvermoon
by Amavi L. Michael
Summary: Short story of Charissa Alyssae k'Treva. I do not own Warcraft nor any characters other than Alyssae herself. RP Based.


Almond green eyes flickered, slowly watering, as the female elf watched her Lord and another noblewoman fight in front of her. Her fingers gently ran over the smooth, well-crafted fabric of her dress as she waited and listened. Alyssae's dress was common in appearance, but if one looked closer, they would note the skill of which the cloth was spun and the delicate lacework around the hem. The dress was a dull red, one of the cheaper colors on the market of Silvermoon and one a simple maid could easily acquire. Her face seemed pale in contrast to the red and her lush brown hair framed it as the locks fell almost to her waist. At a glance, her face was one that would neither stand out in a crowd nor draw any kind of attraction. However, looking closer, one might see the odd fullness of her lips and come to admire her strong nose and jaw. Currently, however, her almond eyes, illuminated green, were dimmed as they filled with tears, watching the two nobles fight with iced words.

Lord Sylanthis, head of House Winterwill and Baron of Wycombe, was a taller elf with gracefully long auburn hair and sharp, yet cold, emerald eyes. Tonight he sported a beautiful blue robe with gold trim along the hems, obvious work of Alyssae k'Treva, his newly employed maid. His pale skin was slightly flushed as he argued with the she-elf in front of him, his ink stained fingers curling and uncurling to control his anger. The she-elf returning bitter remarks was a bit taller than the teary-eyed maid to her left, however much shorter than the Lord before her. With her chin up high, Majari Grymuster the niece of Duke Grymuster, glanced with her almond green eyes to the maid and sneered.

Watching all three from the shadows was another elf, his ears trying to listen to every syllable as if each was a clue to a large puzzle. His clothes and hair were a deep black and a well cared for curved dagger was tucked in his belt. While his ears tried to pick out everything which was said, his green almond eyes were locked on Alyssae, a grim look etched in his features. Dravis Springshade kept to the shadows to be unnoticed, trying to see if the accusation of his fiancée was true or false.

"You know as well as I do that such a temptation of flesh would be hard to ignore, Sylanthis. She is the only woman under your command and coin-" Majari said coldly, her eyes flicking back to the glowering Lord.

"It is none of your business if I remain chaste or not, Majari. My bloodline is pure and shall stay that way… the maid is nothing to me." He replied, carefully measured venom laced into every word. The Lady blushed then moved to say something more until she paused and smirked softly, her eyes flicking to the maid who was still crying silently.

"Then strike her, Sylanthis. Break something and then leave her bleeding in the dirt if she is just an insignificant employee."

Sylanthis shifted his eyes to lie upon Alyssae for the first time since Majari accused him of the crime of mixing peasant and noble bloodlines, a serious crime of the City of Silvermoon which would have his titles stripped from him. His eyes locked with the trembling maid's wet ones and he turned away from the two women, speaking softly.

"Return home by midnight, Alyssae."

The elf in the shadows shook his head and was torn with anger from the Lord not striking to prove he felt nothing for his love and relief that he did not. He watched Lord Winterwill walk off with strong strides, respect being demanded with each step. Looking back to Alyssae, his heart broke as he saw her on her knees sobbing violently, the dress which she labored on for weeks now most likely ruined with dirt and grass stains. He tore again. Should he rush to her side and hold her, or coldly walk past her? Rubbing a long ear softly, he stepped from the shadows, intending to put the puzzle of this together… but for now he took a few steps towards her, making the noblewoman aware of his presence. Majari turned her nose up at the lower-ranked male elf and walked off, leaving him alone with the sobbing mess in the dirt.

Wet green eyes looked up, tears trailing down pale face as Alyssae looked up into the face of her love. Her heart sinking low, she reached out for him, her head shaking 'no'. Coldly, he made no move to clasp her hands and simply held up one hand as if to tell her to stop and turned, slinking away.

Walking through the streets, Dravis felt dizzy from the torn emotions being held within him. Almost automatically, he went to the small apartment he was currently renting and continued to roll the pieces of this puzzle together, trying to see the whole picture. Alas, he was missing some part of this mystery. How could Alyssae be in an intimate relationship with her Lord if she spent so much time on her craft of tailoring as well as keeping his house clean? But then again, would she be able to resist such a temptation of power and money? Hadn't she said once she'd have done anything to be someone with such status? How was Majari involved? Something was missing, and he wasn't sure exactly what it was; sinking from not fitting together what he knew, he fell into sleep with disturbing dreams.

As morning came, Dravis woke slowly, an ear twitching as it picked up women screeching in the streets with annoyingly high pitched voices. What was it this time? Did a mouse bite a noblewoman's slipper? Oh dear. He ignored the sounds until he heard the masculine calls of the guard, calling for everyone to step away and allow a healer through. Hearing such things made him jump up from bed and dart to the window, his heart sinking as his eyes rested upon a crumpled red figure in the middle of the street, darker splashes of blood soaked into the material of Alyssae's dress. Her Lord proved exactly what she was to him, so it seemed.


End file.
